Call and Answer
by songstress42
Summary: Its been eight month since Daniel disappeared and the remaining members of SG1 find a dying stranger on a Planet they’ve never been to before. AU, takes place during the fifth season or thereabouts.
1. Chapter 1

The planet was unoccupied. Nothing but trees, trees, and more trees flourished in the damp rainforest world of P3R 257. The soil was a deep, rich brown and Samantha Carter's knife cut easily through the dirt floor of the forest. But she wasn't here to marvel at the fertile soil of this particular alien planet, so in went the dirt into the standard, plastic hazmat bag and off went the major to a new spot of interest. Colonel Jack O'Neill had ordered a sweep of the perimeter and even if Doctor Jackson had been with them, he probably wouldn't have been much help, no doubt leaving the work up to the other two men and going off in search of some lingering sign that intelligent life had once roamed this planet. 'Yeah' Jack thought, 'he would have been off in a flash and Teal'c and I would have had to spend the entire time dragging him away from some rock.'

_Artifact._

Even in his mind the words sounded fond. Not cruel, like he had meant them to be. It had been like that for nearly eight months now. Ever since that mission when Jack had turned his back for a second and Daniel had disappeared. Poof. Into thin air. As if he had never been standing there in the first place, his face calm, hiding a growing anger as Jack yelled at him louder and louder.

_It's okay._

Jack grunted sullenly to the empty wilderness. How did you shut up a voice that was coming from inside you? How could he stop hearing Daniel correcting everything he said, comforting in words small enough for him to understand? Words that sounded so simple and yet so elegant coming from the mouth of such an accomplished linguist and friend? How could he shut up a voice that really, deep deep down, you didn't want to shut up?

_You_-

"Shut-up!"

Jack could feel two pairs of eyes on him as he recovered from his little outburst. He turned.

"I'm fine." He said gruffly but truthfully to his two remaining teammates.

They nodded, not quite believing him, and went back to their work.

Jack turned again to the dense forest he was surrounded by.

It was just like when Charlie died, not directly his fault but he still felt he had had a part in it. As if not yelling at Daniel would have made any difference to whichever bastards had taken him. At least he would've had a picture of Daniel happy, smiling even, burned into his brain. Or a sulking Daniel not allowed to finish at the Temple they had left not long ago. A good picture, not one of Daniel standing stock still, afraid to move for fear of eliciting even more of the colonel's wrath, his face stonily neutral, devoid of all emotion. That was what really got Jack going, he could never be sure whether the young man was taking any of his ranting in or if he was just running on autopilot. Jack never could tell. But looking back on the picture forever branded into his memory, the last time he had ever seen Daniel, he could see the fear, the overwhelming fear spilling out through his eyes. The blame, the disappointment he was directing not at Jack, but at himself for somehow bringing this on. Years of abuse and neglection had taught Daniel one thing, that whatever was directed at you was brought on by yourself. Jack knew now what he hadn't known then: that every degrading and belittling syllable that was thrown at Daniel would not come back to you, but would instead be directed back at himself a hundred times more powerful than anything, any pain Jack could inflict.

'I'm sorry Daniel. For everything.'

Silence.

That was the answer, the same answer he came back with every time he uttered a true apology to the wind.

Silence.


	2. Chapter 2

Teal'c's eyes expertly scanned the dense forest that surrounded them picking up every little detail. His boots made no noise as he moved through the undergrowth; like a panther hunting its prey. He held his staff upright by his side ready to strike at any sign of danger.

And that's when he spotted it: the pale, fleshy shape of what was unmistakably a human arm.

Teal'c stopped and drew up short, staring at the pale skin that stood out sharply in the dark green that surrounded them. It seemed to be intact despite the dirt and grime that stained the skin. Sensing no movement he crept forward, staff at the ready.

The arm, he soon found out, was attached to a body. Intact and surprisingly alive as indicated by the slight rise and fall his chest made every so often. Reaching up to the small radio strapped to his left shoulder, he pressed the intercom button.

"Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter. I have found something."

O'Neill's answer came through a moment later.

"Whatcha got Teal'c?"

"It appears to be the body of a humanoid male. He is still alive."

Silence was all that came through the radio, but in the distance Teal'c could hear the two crashing through the forest. Five seconds later Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter stood beside him staring at the body that lay huddled between the roots of one of the giant trees surrounding the Stargate.

A quiet "Oh my God." escaped from Sam as all three stared at the body displayed before them.

His right ankle was twisted almost backwards and through the numerous bruising and dried blood, white bone could be seen, penetrating the flesh. His bare legs were no thicker than Carter's forearm and hundreds of little cuts and scrapes scarred the pitifully thin thighs. The feet were bare and the soles raw and bleeding.

The rag that had obviously been a simple garment of some kind was so ripped and torn that the body's stomach was exposed, revealing a very anorexic torso. So much so that the shape of the figure's spine could be clearly distinguished through the stomach, and each and every rib, most of which looked bruised if not cracked and broken, were as easily visible as if the flesh was not there at all.

The arms were thin and covered in mud (as was the rest of the body) and looked as though even the slightest force would snap them in two. The hands were bloody and raw, dirt and grime standing out sharply underneath broken and cracked fingernails. Almost all of the fingers on the left hand were bent backwards and the left arm was very painfully dislocated from its socket.

The face – along with being mostly obscured by mud, a scattering of thin whiskers, and long, dirty thinning hair – was undistinguishable due to several mean looking bruises, one which had resulted in a very nasty-looking black eye. The cheeks were sunken and the entire head had a gaunt, sickly look to it.

After staring in horror at the spectacle for nearly a minute and a half, Sam turned and heaved a half eaten MRE unto the nearby bushes.

"Major?" Jack asked softly in concern.

"I'm fine sir," She replied, getting back up and not looking at the body.

"Carter, listen. I hate to have to do this but out of all of us you have the most medical experience…"

Sam turned and looked Jack unblinking in the eyes.

"I'm fine sir."

Jack looked back before smiling slightly, nodding and turning to the Jaffa.

"Teal'c, I want you to watch Major Carter and the body while I go report our find to the General."

All Jack got in reply was a curt nod but it was enough for him. Taking one last look at the body, Jack shivered at the sight before heading back to the Stargate.


	3. Chapter 3

WOW! My God has it really been this long since I updated? (Runs to room and hides under bed in embarrassment and to avoid thrown paraphernalia)

I must have started this chapter hundreds of times and never being quite happy with it. I'm still not to be honest but you guys deserve something for being so, so, so very patient.

I hope you like it!

* * *

Janet cleared her throat and straightened the papers on the briefing room table. She was not in the greatest of moods, she hadn't slept at all since SG-6 had come back more than 36 hours ago with what appeared to be a very contagious variation of the flu virus and she did not appreciate being dragged here when she had so much other work to do. Nearly half the base had already been infected and she was rapidly running out of medical resources and personnel. Just because SG-1 found a strange man dying on another planet didn't mean they had to drop everything here, especially if that meant condemning half the base to death.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It wasn't that she didn't care for the man it was just that she was overworked as it was and after her brief examination of the patient there was not much hope, even if her infirmary wasn't swamped, he was simply too far gone. Nearly ready to scream at the unfairness of it all Janet managed to calm herself and settled for once again straightening the papers on the table, hoping to shift her train of thought, and becoming more and more impatient when it was clear her mind was not going anywhere. She hated it when she was unable to help someone, anyone in need of her assistance. But, bottom line; there was nothing she could do for the man.

Being a doctor came with all sorts of negative perks, but the worst had to be making tough choices. And not 'which medication would be best for this patient?' or 'how am I going to deliver this bad news' or 'how am I going to have time to treat all the people in my infirmary and not go nuts?' no. The toughest part of being a doctor was not figuring out how to treat patients, but facing the reality that some couldn't be treated. She'd lost many patients before this guy, but the fact that she was sending him to the grave without ever having treated him in the first place was the worst of all.

Jack sat across the table, not nearly as good at masking his irritation as the doctor. His fingers were tap-dancing idly on the tabletop and he was fidgeting in his chair like a rambunctious child force to sit through school on a beautiful sunny day.

Beside Jack sat his antithesis: a completely inert Teal'c who, apart from the occasional blink, had not moved for the past ten five.

The silence was tense and oppressive and broken only by the occasional rustle of papers on Janet's part and tap, tap, tap of fingertips on Jack's.

General Hammond broke the atmosphere by entering the room a few minutes later.

"Sorry I'm late." He apologized, sitting down and settling himself in his accustomed chair. "Dr. Frasier, you may proceed."

Janet smiled and gave the general her brief report: He was definitely human, he had never been the host to a Goua'uld, and he was carrying no contagious diseases. He was however severely mal-nourished, several of his ribs were broken and a few were cracked. The copious amounts of cuts and bruises suggested harsh physical abuse and he was running a high fever due to infections from the half-healed abrasions marring his body. She concluded that under different circumstances she would be more that happy to treat the stranger but the severity of his condition and the shortage of medical staff, such a thing would be more of a hindrance than a help.

"In the end it is simply a moral issue of weighing the pros against the cons and though it grieves me deeply to say it, I simply do not have the manpower or resources to help this man, even if I could give him a better prognosis. As it is I'm amazed he's lasted this long. Ultimately the decision is yours but I cannot see how we could treat this man at this time. Major Carter volunteered to stay behind to look after him, that is how short staffed we are."

"Thank you Dr. Frasier, I will take that into consideration when I speak to my superiors." Hammond said before turning to face the two SG team members. "Gentlemen, do you have anything to add?"

"Not on my end." Jack said before glancing back at Teal'c, "What about you big guy?"

"If what Doctor Frasier says is true then I am in agreement with her. I believe in this situation that the health of our own men is worth the price of the loss of one unknown man's life. Especially considering the number and seriousness of his injuries. It might even be considered charity to allow his suffering to end."

"Very well, thank you for your words and your time. Colonel, Teal'c, I would like you to take SG-2 and finish your mission. That man may not have come through the stargate and if we can't save him then maybe we can at least try to stop it happening to other people."

And with that, the meeting was adjourned.

* * *

Sam scrubbed the waterlogged sponge gently over the filthy chest of the John Doe they had found not five hours ago. She shuddered as she ran her hand over the now clean skin and saw as well as felt every single rib in the cage underneath. After Jack had gone to get help, Janet had come through with a medical team. The first thing that had escaped her lips had been shocked gasp followed by a soft 'Dear Lord' her hand moving to cover a gaping mouth. Janet had been a military doctor now for close to fifteen years. She had seen everything and had dealt with it accordingly. For something to make her gasp in such a way had sent shivers up Sam's spine.

Turning back to the basin of warm water she had perched on a counter of the hastily assembled field hospital tent that had been assembled in the clearing by the Stargate, she doused the sponge and continued to gently scrub away the filth that covered the mans body.

"God what happened to you?" She asked quietly under her breath to no one in particular as she uncovered more and more signs of physical abuse. She scrubbed down his right arm, carefully cleaning around the IV that was feeding him glucose and anti-biotics. There wasn't much they could do for this man but Janet insisted that they could at least give him some basic medical care.

When she finished with his arms, she called Captain Richmond in from his post outside the tent door to help her shift the man onto his front so she could clean his back. half healed whip lashes extended from his neck to below the line of the towel, a place she was not yet ready to clean though she knew she would have to eventually. She carefully cleaned the oozing welts out with the sponge and then applied anti bacterial cream and bandages before procuring the Captains help again and turning him over once more.

Staring down at the horrendous sight before her eyes, she was trying not to picture what had happened to this man to cause such extensive damage when a thin scar, somehow separate from the others caught her eye. She bent down and studied it. It was different from the older scars she had encountered on his back: whip lashes that had healed over by themselves and obviously not treated very well. This one was thinner somehow as though it had been properly stitched back together and not left to heal on its own. There was something too about the placement. Something naggingly familiar.

And then it came to her and she dashed to the medical supplies container and came back with heavy duty scissors and proceeded to cut away at he wild hair that had tangled into one big mat. Her heart was racing as she cut and then it was onto the beard trying to be as calm as she could with her blood racing cold in her veins. When she had the whiskers cut down as far as she could, she exchanged the scissors for an electric razor. Clean shaven she hastily wipe away the grime on his face and when she was done she stepped back to take a good look at the change.

A gasp left her lips as the previously unrecognizable features coalesced into the face of a man she had not seen in eight months, a face she thought she would never see again. His name escaped through her lips in an unbelieving gasp.

"Daniel."


End file.
